Northwest Indiana Photographer

Newborn Herbal and Floral Bath Shoot (with little Henry)

What is a newborn herbal bath? Well, as it relates to my photography, it's a time set aside for mother and baby, when I draw a bath and add an mix of gentle, healing herbs for both to enjoy. Then I add some pretty flowers provided by the wonderful Sugarfield Flowers). Baby relaxes and I take adorable photos of a sweet little baby in the water. And because a bath with a photographer can be only so relaxing, I leave a second packet for mom to use at her leisure when she needs a little time to unwind and be comforted. 

This is little Henry. Just perfect.

 

The Birth of Henry William Brewer

This birth went so smoothly. I arrived at the hospital at around 7am, around an hour after Maeve and Dave. Maeve was a first time mother and she couldn't have handled it any better. Of course, she had great support in her doula and my  friend Theresa Armstrong. She never panicked or lost control. It's been said that most people do more research when buying a car or a stereo system than the birth of their child. Having a good understanding of the birth process erases many fears and gives the woman confidence in her body's natural abilities. I think Maeve understood this. 

Dave was an excellent support for his laboring wife. He was always calm and attentive, even when things got a little intense. He was also really good for empathetic shots of his face. Thanks, Dave!

The birth of sweet Henry William Brewer was a very good one. He was so blessed by the way he was brought into this world. 

What is Sehnsucht?

"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known" (1 Corinthians 13:12)

Shot on expired 35mm Kodak HD 400 in Lowell, Indiana 

Shot on expired 35mm Kodak HD 400 in Lowell, Indiana 

 

The soft sweetness of warm air after an early summer rain.

A gentle gleam in the clouds and trees, while you drive with windows down and the smell of a perfect breeze. 

Have you ever been struck by something in the atmosphere that makes you want to go back, but to where you do not know ? Has the light ever filled you with an ardent wish to be again in a place so beautiful that to not be there is painful?  Does a beautiful piece of music evoke this in you ?

The moment is fleeting. With it's departure comes heartache, however brief it may be. 

The Germans have a word for this. SehnsuchtAt it's simplest, it means "longing" or "yearning". I described this feeling to my husband one day, a feeling I'd experienced many times before, and I was thrilled when he told me that the word existed. Still, it's only a word. It doesn't come close to conveying the exquisite sense of contentment that is just beyond our grasp. 

Have you experienced this? What does it mean to you?

 C.S. Lewis talked about it in many of his writings. He had his own theories, and I tend to agree with him. I'll leave you with this and a hope that someday your yearning is fulfilled.

 

“In speaking of this desire for our own far off country, which we find in ourselves even now, I feel a certain shyness. I am almost committing an indecency. I am trying to rip open the inconsolable secret in each one of you—the secret which hurts so much that you take your revenge on it by calling it names like Nostalgia and Romanticism and Adolescence; the secret also which pierces with such sweetness that when, in very intimate conversation, the mention of it becomes imminent, we grow awkward and affect to laugh at ourselves; the secret we cannot hide and cannot tell, though we desire to do both. We cannot tell it because it is a desire for something that has never actually appeared in our experience. We cannot hide it because our experience is constantly suggesting it, and we betray ourselves like lovers at the mention of a name. Our commonest expedient is to call it beauty and behave as if that had settled the matter. Wordsworth’s expedient was to identify it with certain moments in his own past. But all this is a cheat. If Wordsworth had gone back to those moments in the past, he would not have found the thing itself, but only the reminder of it; what he remembered would turn out to be itself a remembering. The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing. These things—the beauty, the memory of our own past—are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshipers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never visited."

C.S. Lewis

 

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